Silver and Gold 2/? (DH Spoilers)
SPOILERS FOR DH



Title: Silver and Gold 2/?
Author: Eriador117
Rating: NC-17, Snape/Harry, other pairings.
Spoilers up to and including Deathly Hallows
Summary: Things are never quite what they seem. Epilogue, what epilogue? ;)
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the Potterverse, I'm just playing in it.
Beta'd by Rakina, many thanks :)
Warnings: AU, Angst, Mpreg, Under 18 (briefly). There are some other things I am not warning for as it will give away the plot and I myself don't exactly know where the story is going yet.


Earlier Parts

Part Two

Harry ran as fast as his legs could carry him back up to the castle, through the portrait at the base of the clock tower and then it was a sprint up the stairs to the fourth floor and the infirmary. He didn't know whether it was because the castle had been so damaged or just because the stairs knew of his urgency, but they didn't start moving around randomly so that he managed to get to the infirmary in record time.

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey!" Harry screamed as soon as he'd yanked the infirmary doors open. There were people on the beds, but Harry didn't have time to look and recognise them; Hagrid's own urgency making Harry doubly panicky.

"Snape! He's still alive! Hagrid's got him!"

Madam Pomfrey gaped at him for a few seconds, but in an instant she had Summoned vials of potions, bandages, dressings and some sharp looking instruments to her, which she deposited in her pocket. There wasn't any sign of a bulge and Harry was reminded of Hermione's bottomless (or so it had seemed to him) handbag when they'd been forced to go on the run.

"Take me to him, Potter," said Madam Pomfrey as she left instructions with one of the seventh year prefects who'd been helping out in the infirmary. Now that Harry noticed, there were quite a few students who weren't actually in bed injured, but going around the beds helping those who had been.

Harry ran down the stairs; Madam Pomfrey running behind him, her footsteps sounding so loud on the stairs. Once through the portrait and the secret passage leading from the grand staircase, they saw Hagrid leaning over Snape's prone form as he lay on the stone floor of the base of the tower.

Madam Pomfrey conjured floating balls of light and now Harry could see the two figures that accompanied Hagrid. One of them was even paler than Snape, it was a face that Harry thought was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He'd seen the man somewhere before, he was almost sure of it. The same could be said of his companion, but no matter how hard he wracked his brains, Harry just couldn't remember.

"How come he's still alive?" asked Harry of no one in particular. "He was dead, I saw him! There was so much blood and Nagini was poisonous!"

"He wasn't dead, he'd just passed out from loss of blood," said the short man with glasses. "He needed blood in him and quickly."

Harry looked at the tall, pale man and suddenly realised who he was. "Sanguini!" He'd seen the vampire and his friend at one of Slughorn's parties last year.

"So Snape's a vampire now?" asked Harry, glancing back as Madam Pomfrey tended to Snape.

Eldred Worple laughed but without any humour in it. "It's so true what they say, isn't it? The Defence classes here are appalling! Of course he isn't a vampire, any more than you would become me if I were to give you a blood transfusion. That's basically what it was; but it was a lot easier for Sanguini to give his blood being a vampire and being a vampire, his blood also has immunity to quite a few poisons. Not this one unfortunately. The only way to become a vampire is to be born one or for the exchange of blood. Sanguini didn't taste of Professor Snape."

Harry looked warily at the vampire; who seemed to be struggling to stay upright and wasn't sure if he could trust what he'd just been told. Maybe Worple was just protecting his friend? As Harry looked closer, he saw the vampire's left wrist had marks on it, but besides the bites from Nagini, Snape didn't seem to have any others. He guessed the vampire's marks were where Snape had fed from him.

There was a cough, a splutter from behind him. Harry turned around just in time to see Snape glance around him in some confusion.

"Dear Merlin, I always knew Hogwarts was hell!" before he promptly passed out.

***

Madam Pomfrey put Sanguini and Snape in the small private ward off the infirmary. Harry guessed it was because the matron didn't trust the vampire to be as circumspect in a ward full of injured and bloodied patients and it would also help keep the questions from the rest of the castle to a minimum.

Harry sat by Snape's bed while he lay resting as Eldred Worple sat by Sanguini's. After plenty of blood replenishing solution given to them by Madam Pomfrey their pallor had improved considerably, although Sanguini still looked paler than any normal human. But what on Earth was normal? Harry had spent most of his life playing host to part of Voldemort's soul! That wasn't exactly normal, was it?

"I hope your friend will be okay," said Harry. "That was good of him. To save Professor Snape, I mean." Harry knew he was rambling but he couldn't seem to be able to stop his mouth.

"Vampires and others who are different are often discriminated against," said Worple. "Sanguini was born a vampire; but why should we punish the child for the sins of its parents? He has never killed anyone and his donors have always been willing participants. He needs blood, yes, but he doesn't need to kill to get it. No vampire needs to kill in order to stay healthy. Some of them just like it; just like some wizards like it."

"Our illustrious Ministry disagrees, of course," spat Harry, remembering Dolores Umbridge and all her rants about half breeds and purity. Was she still there? Were those laws still going to be in force now that Voldemort was gone?

"That's why we were at the Shrieking Shack," said Worple. "We were hiding out, a half-blood and a vampire. We didn't want to fall prey to the Muggle-born Registration Commission. Of course, they're not just going after Muggle-borns, are they? Merlin, that Umbridge woman is foul, isn't she?"

Harry glanced down at his right hand and the scar that had never faded. I must not tell lies. "Yeah, yeah, she is." Harry stared out one of the long windows, seeing nothing but his own reflection he sighed rather loudly; a snort rose from the figure on the bed beside him.

"Potter. Haven't I suffered enough? Now I'm expected to endure you for all eternity as well?"

"Not for eternity, sir. You're not dead yet."

"I rather gathered that. Which one of my many crimes has landed me the punishment of being stuck with you for a nursemaid?"

"It's not a punishment. I just wanted to be here."

"Why?" Snape asked, struggling to sit up. Harry leaned over and tried to help him. "Potter, what do you think you are doing?"

"I was just trying to help."

"I neither require nor do I wish your help. Please leave."

"What?"

"Don't you understand English, Potter? Leave. I do not wish to see you. I do not wish to see anyone."

"Now look here, old chap, the boy's been with since you were found. You can't just chase him out like that! He needs to know you're all right!"

Snape glowered at the small man. "If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it, Worple!"

"Oh, that's just bloody fantastic, that is! Sanguini and I saved your life and not so much as a thank you!"

"I didn't want saving," snarled Snape. "I was prepared to die!"

"If we hadn't found that Bezoar in your pocket, you would have done! What were you carrying a Bezoar around for if you didn't mean to use it, eh?" asked Worple.

"I had every intention of using it if it was required, but it was never for me." Snape was silent then, his breath coming in ragged gasps and Harry knew that although the man was no longer in danger of dying, he wasn't well either. Harry had his suspicions as to who Snape had intended that Bezoar for. Snape had been spying on Voldemort for years, had never once been suspected of working for the Light. Snape probably knew how Voldemort's mind was working and that he might very well have been tempted to set Nagini on Harry if he wasn't sure any spells would have worked.

"Thank you," said Harry.

"Get out!" Snape screamed, his face red and blotchy.

"I'm going," said Harry. "But I'll be back."

***

True to his word, Harry returned to Snape's bedside every day the man spent in the infirmary. Two days after Snape had returned to consciousness, Sanguini was discharged and he and Eldred Worple went abroad. It seemed that Dolores Umbridge was still on her "hunt down those who don't fit her concept of purity" routine and there were rioters outside the Ministry in London, calling for her removal. Since Scrimgeour had died, another election was due in the near future and Harry was appalled to read in the Daily Prophet that she was in the running for Minister. Surely no one would be so foolish as to make her Minister of Magic? But then who would have thought she would still have been at the Ministry after what she'd done at Hogwarts either?

Harry brought books which he read aloud to Snape when it seemed the man was having some difficulty in reading the text himself. Snape still suffered from the odd dizzy spell and the even more frequent outbursts of rage directed at Harry, since Harry was his most frequent visitor. Madam Pomfrey tended him of course, but she was so busy with other patients that she didn't have time to read to him or talk to him.

Snape was the worst patient Harry had ever seen. The food was never good enough; the books Harry brought weren't right; his juice was never the right temperature; the room was too dark, too bright; the pillows were too soft, too hard.

By the end of the fortnight, Harry was seriously contemplating throttling the man.

"The pillows are fine!" snapped Harry, at the end of his tether after Snape had done nothing but complain all morning. "I should know, I spent enough time in here!" It didn't help that Harry had just come from Fred Weasley's funeral. He hadn't wanted to go but knew it was expected of him.

"Yes, you always did have a knack for getting yourself into trouble," sighed Snape. "Just like your sainted fath-"

"Don't. Just don't," sighed Harry, setting the book down on the bed and pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. "I know he wasn't a saint, all right? I know you hated him. I think I even know why you hated him, but can we please just forget that and move on? I am not my father no matter how much I might look like him."

"No," said Snape, looking deeply at Harry for the first time in days. "You have more of Lily in you now."

"Do I?" asked Harry. "Can – can I ask you about her? About her childhood? No one's ever told me anything much about her."

"What do you want to know?"

"Were you really in love with her all these years?"

"Potter, what madness have you got into your head now? I was never in love with Lily Evans. We were just friends."

"But your Patronus was the same as hers."

"Yours is the same as your father's, are you telling me you were in love with him?"

"No! Of course not!"

"And anyway, you've got it wrong. Your mother's Patronus was a doe. Mine was a fawn."

"It can't have been a fawn, it was too big. It wasn't a baby deer."

Snape seemed to weigh his next words very carefully. He sighed and sank back against his pillows.

"No, it was a fawn on the edge of adulthood. A male fawn."

"You mean – you mean your Patronus was meant to be me?"


TBC